Chapter 1.2 Coffin (Extra)

The light in the thatched cottage was dim, so I could only see that it was an old-fashioned coffin—a large wooden box with a big top and a small bottom, but it wasn’t very big, unlike the coffins of large families that you would see on TV. The coffin was covered with so much mud that its contours could hardly be seen.

This coffin made my heart beat a little faster and aroused my infinite curiosity. Although the memory wasn’t very clear, it seemed that this ancestral hall was originally related to the coffin, since family funerals and ancestral halls were the places where dead bodies rested during the rituals. I remembered that when Grandpa died, his body stayed here. Since it was still midsummer at that time, a Taoist priest sealed the stench using a generally cumbersome ceremony which I can’t remember clearly. So, it shouldn’t have been surprising that there were coffins here.

The question was: why was this coffin placed in the thatched hut behind the ancestral hall and covered in dry mud? According to the surrounding cobwebs, the thickness of dust, and the degree of rust on the locks, this coffin had been sitting here for quite a long time. Whether it was ten years ago or a few decades ago, why was this coffin carried here and left like this until now? Was there a body in the coffin? If so, who was it?

Many thoughts flashed through my mind in an instant and I felt a little antsy. It seemed that there was a story behind this ancestral hall, this thatched cottage, and the ancient coffin inside.

But I was wearing a new ME CITY shirt I bought a few days ago, and I didn’t have the skills to be agile enough; otherwise, I definitely would’ve climbed in and taken a closer look. But I knew that even if I went in, I couldn’t see anything—it wasn’t like I could pry open the coffin. Plus, who knew what was inside? After looking for a long time, I angrily turned and walked around the thatched cottage where I found a piece of farmland. As I walked down the ridge of the field, I found that the farmland had been abandoned for a long time and was overgrown with weeds. This was supposed to be our family’s share of the ancestral land—it was a pity that all three of my grandpa’s sons weren’t made for farming so the land had become such a wasteland.

I could see other people’s land further ahead because it was always easy to make out where the boundary was—there was the hillside, which extended from the path down to the next section of the terrace.

To keep going was pointless. While I walked back to the hall, I thought about how much these pieces of land would cost if they were in Hangzhou. I didn’t know if dad and the others had finished their talk, but if they hadn’t, then I would just listen from the side. It was better to practice listening to the Changsha dialect than hang around here, anyways.

When I passed by the thatched cottage, I took another look inside, but the sun was a little weaker and the room was darker so I couldn’t see anything clearly.

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Updated 11/20/2021